While I Lay Dreaming Of You
by DragonyPhoenix
Summary: At Graduation, after Willow has been drained by another vampire, Angel turns her.
1. Chapter 1

The moon drifted between the earth and sun. The sky went dark. At Angel's nod, they stepped out into the now sunless day and settled themselves at the bottom of the stairs to wait. Flaming arrows dusted vampires, who when they turned to flee, saw the waiting warriors. Time to fight. Angel smiled as he leaped into the fray.

Three punches and his opponent fell before him. A kick and a punch took another down. A sweeping kick sent a vampire spinning to the ground. In the momentary break, Angel scanned the area, searching for Buffy, not really expecting to see her since the plan had her running into the school. Students streamed down the steps, like water streaming over rocks.

Another vampire kicked at him and kicked again. He blocked them easily. As the vampire kicked a third time, Angel grabbed his leg and tossed him backwards where a student rushed in and killed it with a stake. Dust drifted silently to the ground in the chaos of the fight.

A cry grabbed Angel's attention. How he heard it over the din of battle he never knew. Willow, squashed in a sea of students, with no space to defend herself, had been grabbed by a vampire. She grimaced as it bit into her neck. Heedless of the donnybrook, Angel tossed vampires and students aside in his effort to reach her in time. He barely even noticed the vampire he wrenched off of Willow before grabbing her and, hoping against hope that he could get her to a hospital in time, tearing away from the fray. He caught Wesley's startled expression, from the ground, as he raced past. Angel had dashed across the street, past a green area with a couple of benches, and into the blocking silence of trees before he could hear that it was too late. Willow was dying.

Behind him a fountain dripped water. Drip. Drip. Angel tore off his shirt. Drip. He cut a bloody line across his chest and brought Willow's lips up. Drip. As the blood touched her lips, Willow started turning, enough that she latched onto his wound and drank deeply. He could no longer hear the fountain. Not stopping to think why he was turning Willow, Angel never did realize he was creating the one thing he'd missed since he'd been resouled: a connection, a family.

He did, however, realize, too late, that he'd created a problem.

* * *

Willow woke in a panic. It should have been cool and dark. It was hot. She was in a convertible and even though the top was up and the car was parked in the shade, sunlight was only a few feet away. Willows scrambled for the cool darkness of the building.

As she stood plastered against the wall, not knowing where she was, Willow noticed the whispering at the back of her mind. The voice had been whispering to her, she realized, even before she'd woken up. _Your Sire is not a true vampire. His human soul weakens him._ Willow's mind wandered back over Angel's actions since she'd met him: averting apocalypse after apocalypse; siding with the Slayer, who should have been his natural enemy; helping humans. Willow felt sick with disgust.

The whispers changed after that. _You're a hungry little thing, aren't you?_ She was. Willow was famished. _This way. Take the back stairs. He'll stop you if he finds you_. Willows followed the whisper until she could hear it herself: one human heartbeat.

"Hello?" Willow asked, stepping into the room. She hissed at the sunlight streaming in from the window but there was also a woman, ancient and sitting in the shadows. The woman shrank from her and that was what decided Willow. "You're not afraid of little me, are you? How sweet."

Willow drank up the woman's terror, which shone out from behind half mad eyes. "He told me you'd come for me if I wasn't quiet, but I've been ever so careful."

"Not careful enough," Willow replied as she shifted into vamp face for the first time. The woman, still lost in her own terror, didn't seem to notice that Willow wasn't human. Disappointing but still, there will be other victims, Willow thought, biting into the woman's neck as the lights flashed. The hot, sweet blood was like nectar. Willow's head was spinning as she stood back up.

"No!" Angel stood in the doorway, pale, even for a vampire. "Willow, what have you done?"

Willow licked the blood from her lips. She'd never felt that way before but she knew what she wanted. Although the whispers had been right, Angel was weak, he was there and he was her Sire. A Childe's devotion to it's Sire fades over time as the Childe ages and becomes independent, she thought in an attempt to distract herself from her emotions. It didn't work. "I want... I need..."

"I know," Angel responded, almost sadly, but then he took Willow into his arms, carried her into the hall, and kicking down the door, into another room. Willow didn't understand why he'd carried her into another room but was too far gone to care. They both surrendered to her bloodlust. Angel tried to be gentle with her but Willow needed more violence than he first offered. In their passion they tore the clothes off of each other and then he was on her, and in her, and exulting above her, and, prompted by the earlier whispers, she hated him but, in her moment of great need, it didn't matter, and then his fangs were at her throat and she screamed out her submission, and her devotion, before sighing back onto the bed.

When Willow woke again, her doubts had been driven from her conscious mind. She didn't realize it at the time but sexual joining, especially after first feeding, was one of the strongest ties between Sire and Childe, acting as a strong reinforcement of the Childe's subordinate position. Angel knew he needed to control her. All Willow knew was that her Sire was the earth under her feet, the air she no longer needed to breathe, the sunlight that could kill her now, the darkness that was her new home, and the well of acceptance that could drown her.

* * *

Just before dusk, Angel raised himself off the bed, told Willow to wait for him, dressed in clothes he pulled out of a carry-on – the clothes he had been wearing had been torn to shreds, just as Willow's had been – and left the room.

Returning quickly, he tossed an outfit on the bed saying, "Put this on," as he placed a second bag by his carry-on.

Willow looked at the dress. Pale. Pretty. "It looks like something my grandmother would wear," she complained.

Angel flashed into vamp face. With one stride, his teeth were buried in Willow's neck. After taking a minimal amount of blood, enough to assert his dominance but not enough to weaken Willow, he stepped back, saying, "Don't argue. We don't have much time." At Willow's quizzical look, he explained as she started dressing herself. "I don't know if Buffy knows," he paused before finishing, "what happened to you. I want us out of town before she comes looking."

Willow thought of what kinds tortures she and her Sire could force the Slayer to endure until Angel's final words registered. "We're running away?" she asked disappointedly.

Angel growled as he stepped behind her to zip up the dress. "You're too young. You can't take on a Slayer."

Willow turned around in his arms, wrapped her hands around his shoulders and, between bats of her eyelashes, said, "But you can."

"I won't," he said, stepping back before eying her up and down. "Not a perfect fit but it will do for now." While Willow was disturbed that Angel refused to attack the Slayer, she followed his cue and turned her thoughts to what she was wearing. "How long do I have to wear this horrible thing?" As she squirmed in the outfit, she added, "It itches."

"Depends on how quickly I can arrange transportation. I think we can hide more easily in one of the more cosmopolitan cities in Europe than we could in South America." Willow was irked that Angel had said they'd be hiding but his anger melted as he looked at her. "We'll get you some new clothes as soon as possible."

"Leather?" Willow asked, leaning in against Angel and licking his neck. "I bet I'd look hot in leather."

"No," Angel commanded, stepping back from her again. As he took her hand and rubbed his thumb across it, he added, "Only soft fabrics, silks, will ever touch your skin." Willow was appalled but a Childe's obedience told her not to disagree with her Sire so she merely hung her head in response. Angel kissed the top of her head and a whispered, "Good girl," before grabbing the two bags and leading her into the hallway.

"I'm going to try to arrange a flight for tonight," he said conversationally. "I'm not sure I can get us id in time so we may have to bunk up with the baggage." At Willow's chilly silence, he chuckled as he put the bags in the trunk. "Now that you should consider getting used to. It's a tried and true means of travel for those who wish to remain unnoticed. I've actually know vampires who prefer it."

Willow relented from her sulk. "A plane full of people? No escape? Sounds like a veritable smörgåsbord."

Angel grabbed her and slammed her against the car. "No," he yelled. "You will never feed off of a human again. Understand?" Willow stared up at him, incomprehension at a command that so went against vampire nature clear in her eyes. Morphing into vamp face, Angel bit, once again, into her neck. As he licked the wound closed, he whispered, "That's twice in one night you've displeased me. You really want to do better in the future."

"Sire," Willow responded.

"No humans," he added. "Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes Sire," Willow said softly as she thought about what she knew of Angel's feeding habits: butcher bought blood, presumably from a cow or a pig. That was to be her fate from now on.

As Angel kissed her jugular, reinforcing her submission, Willow felt as if her razor sharp edges were being immobilized by a soft, sticky web that stank of her Sire's humanity.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Angel took them to Prague, after confirming that Willow didn't speak Czech. He wanted as much control over her as possible until he was certain she'd obey him and, while vampires did have a natural affinity for new tongues, the language barrier would slow her down a bit.

Angel hadn't realized how many tourists, how many languages, potential people Willow could talk to, would be in the city but decided to stay anyway. He felt free in Prague, as he hadn't felt in a long time, since Angelus had been resouled the first time. Using the money he'd picked up at the Hyperion, that first night Willow had been turned, he rented an apartment. Angel would have preferred his own place but apartments provided an anonymity that purchased homes just couldn't.

Now that they were stable, and well hidden from the Watcher's Council, it was past time to start teaching his Childe. "The head of a line of vampires is referred to as its master."

Angel was instructing Willow in vampire lore and she found to contrast between Watcher and vampire viewpoints fascinating. "But one of the vampires the Slayer killed was called The Master."

Angel nodded in agreement. "He was the head of our bloodline. That he enforced that name, meaning he was referred to as The Master across bloodlines, is an example of the strength of the Aurelian line."

As Willow welled with pride for the strength of her bloodline, she could also tell that Angel was biased on the subject. "But you broke with The Master's line." At Angel's startled growl, she added, "It was in one of Giles' Watcher diaries."

"You can't break with your bloodline," Angel said as the started pacing the length of the room. The shades were open, bathing him in moonlight, which was enough for both of the vampires to see by. "I was never part of the Order of Aurelius; I was never personally loyal to The Master."

"How could that happen?" Angel stopped pacing to glare at Willow. "I know what the bond feels like," she said emphatically. "I couldn't break my bond to you." Angel gazed at her intently, as if trying to see into Willow's very heart before replying. "I'd been a vampire for seven years before Darla introduced me to her Sire. My bond was to Darla, not to The Master, and she'd been traveling on her own long enough that, without any reinforcements, her bond to him had weakened."

Willow pretended to ignore his slip. She'd already realized many of Angel's actions reinforced their bond, keeping her dependent on him: he fed off her on a daily basis, digging deep into her neck which only remained unscarred due to vampire healing; occasionally he'd cut a line across his chest, commanding her to drink just like on the night he'd turned her; even their isolation from other vampires reinforced her attachment to him.

She'd also realized he didn't want her to know what he'd been doing.

Changing the subject, before he realized what he'd let slip, Willow said, "In Sunnydale, some of the vampires didn't seem to be strongly attached to a bloodline, even newly turned vampires."

"There are different types of vampires," he replied, slipping into a pedantic mode again. "A Childe," he sat on the couch next to Willow and caressed her cheek, "is brought into the bloodline as she is turned and is highly loyal and obedient to her Sire. A Fledge is left to fend for himself; they have no protection other than what they can gather around themselves and rarely survive long, having no-one that they can trust implicitly. A Minion is halfway between – not brought into the bloodline but offered its protection. They're mainly used as cannon fodder."

While Angel droned on about lore, Willow mused on what she'd learned. Angel had turned her to be his Childe, his obedient and constant companion. He'd deliberately forced her into a role that didn't suit her. He'd given her a vampire's desires but didn't allow her to act on them.

She'd have to see what she could do about that. Now that she knew why she couldn't leave him, she could test the limits of what her Childe's obedience allowed her to do.

There was more than one way to skin a cat.

* * *

Willow stalked behind her prey, as silent as the night, sneering at him in disgust. Even as a human, she'd been able to face down more fearsome vampires than this self styled lord of Prague. As if he could take on the true master of the city. Still, his pretensions and his obvious inability to carry them through were what would make him useful to Willow. Let's see what kind of a following he'll be able to call to himself, she thought, following him into an abandoned factory.

She hoped he wouldn't take long since she only had a few hours before Angel, whose human soul had started needing time alone, came looking for her. She didn't want him to find her at this new game. When he'd caught her hunting humans, not to feed but merely to hone her skills, he'd chained her to a wall, forcing her to feed off rats but that hadn't been the worst part. His human soul had relented too quickly, releasing her after a mere month. Her Sire was weak.

Before that experience, she'd thought her life couldn't get any worse; afterwards she knew better. It had made her more cautious.

Stretching herself along on a beam, high above the main floor of the factory, Willow had a good view of the gathering vampires. Only a couple dozen vampires showed up. Her prey waited longer than he should have, obviously hoping for a larger audience. Only when another Fledge started heckling him, did he speak.

"Nejvic Zlo rules the city with an iron fist." Over the growls of appreciation, Willow thought, oh you are stupid. Telling vampires how powerful your opponent is? About as smart as waving a red flag at a bull. Her prey must have realized he'd made a mistake because he quickly changed tactics. "We live on the outskirts, barely able to survive, living off of the scraps that fall from his table."

The Fledge who'd spoken before stepped out from the crowd. "And what do you think you're going to do about it, Slim?" Oh, nicely done, Willow thought, admiring how the second vampire had insulted the first with what was obviously a human nickname. Willow quickly recalculated. Stick with her original prey or go with this new Fledge? I need a dumb one and this new one's too smart. I'll have to kill him. Risky if Angel catches wind of it but I can't have this new one challenging Slim. I need a vampire who is dumb enough to get killed challenging Nejvic Zlo but not before he's rallied the Fledges, with a little help from me, spreading the idea that Angel, as an unnatural vampire, cannot be allowed to live.

Willow shifted her hiding place down towards the doorway before the meeting broke up so she could catch the challenger's scent and track him after she'd finished her business with Slim. As he sulked around the factory, she snuck up behind him to grab him, covering his chest and his eyes but making sure to rub up against his back so he'd recognize her sex. While she'd had limited experience with other vampires, and that only when Angel left her alone, Willow had noticed that most male vampires didn't consider females to be a threat.

"Now is that playing nice?" she asked, clenching him more tightly to her as he struggled to free himself. "You fight me when I'm only here to help you?"

He stilled at that. "Help me how?"

"Angel."

"Angel. You mean Angelus? How can that freak help me?" he asked.

Willow tightened her hold on him, to the point of pain, at the insult to her Sire but responded with, "And yet Nejvic Zlo lets him live, an affront to all vampires, an abomination of a demon."

"Yes, I could use that," he replied, finally finding the epiphany she'd laid out for him.

As she slipped out of the building, Willow wondered, how did such an idiot manage to survive more than a few weeks? It didn't even occur to him to ask why I was willing to help him.

* * *

Willow had calculated that it would be less than a week before Angel was challenged by the true master of Prague. She wasn't wrong. Five days later, a challenge rang out in the moonlit night. "Angelus, or I hear you go by Angel now." Willow, from her time as a human, thought of Angelus as Angel without his human soul but, up until then, hadn't heard any vampires make that distinction.

"Most Evil", Angel sneered, translating the challenging vampire's name, Nejvic Zlo, into the English they were all speaking. When the vampire started growling, Angel added, "Perhaps I'll just call you Balthazar then," and Willow glowed, proud of her Sire for the insult he'd just given his challenger. By calling the vampire by his human name, Angel had asserted his own superior age and dominance.

"You won't be calling me anything, once you're dead."

The two master vampires started circling each other, checking for weaknesses. Balthazar lunged in with two quick, high punches, which Angel easily blocked. As Balthazar aimed a sweeping kick at Angel's leg, he blocked the kick while grabbing Balthazar's shoulder, pulling him in with the motion of the kick, and swinging him onto his back before dropping Balthazar to the ground. As Angel followed Balthazar to the ground, he aimed an elbow strike to his opponent's torso. A loud snap of broken bones and, when Balthazar tried to raise himself off the ground, it was obvious he couldn't move from the waist down.

"You," Angel called to Balthazar's minions. "Bring him." They picked up their former master and followed Angel to a church. Angel kicked in the door and entered, leaving the other vampires no choice but to follow. Willow felt nervous. This wasn't a place that vampires should be and she wondered why Angel had brought them here but allowed neither her fear nor her questions to show. Instead she watched Angel as he directed the minions to tie Balthazar to a cross, the size of a man, at the front of the church. Willow felt confused. He was acting more like Angelus than like the Angel she recalled from Sunnydale. Balthazar started screaming, the burns from the cross not killing him immediately, and Willow's desire drove her to Angels arms, where she watched the vampire scream himself to death.

Afterwards, Angel didn't caress Willow, as she'd been expecting, but instead addressed Balthazar's minions. "Leave and never cross my path again." After they'd left, Angel looked around the church, holding Willow still against him. As she tried to caress him, he shushed her and then asked, "Why did I let them leave?"

Willow didn't have to think it through. "If Balthazar, who is younger than you, was willing to challenge you, then others might as well. You let his minions go to spread the word that, even though you have a human soul, you're not weak."

He held her tighter and answered, "Very good."

"Do I get a kiss now, as a reward for my erudition?" she asked.

"Let's go," he said and turned towards the door.

"But Sire," she called. By the look on his face, her interruption was unexpected but, she hoped, not unwelcome. "I would like to ," she licked her lips and undulated in a sinuous motion, "please you."

His face grew stormy. "No. Not here," and he held out his hand to her so she took it and followed him out of the church wondering what had disturbed him so. They went home and he took her, as roughly as he'd ever taken her, time and time again, until she was sated, even from watching Balthazar's screaming death.

"Are you the master of Prague now?" Willow asked, not allowing herself to think of her complicity in the attack in front of Angel.

"No," Angel said. "Even as Angelus, I was never interested in dominion over a city. However, I have seen a number of transitions – they're violent. Dangerous. We'll be leaving Prague. Tonight."

"Leaving," Willow asked in surprise. This didn't interfere with her plans because she didn't have any, not yet anyway. The attack had been a mere test, a volley, but still, this response was unexpected.

"Because I killed Nejvic Zlo, other vampires may think I'm trying to claim territory. I don't plan to spend my nights fighting off someone else's Childer."

Angel made a phone call, to some human he knew, and got them out that night on a private flight. The flight attendant even served them blood, human blood, and Willow looked towards Angel, to check first that he was drinking it, before taking a sip. She drank it slowly, relishing every drop, not knowing when she'd have human blood again, if ever.

While Angel was locked away in his own thoughts, Willow mused over what she'd noticed that evening. There was too much of Angelus in Angel. Well, really, not enough of Angelus since she'd much prefer the vampire, over this namby-pamby human soul, as her Sire. It must have been before he turned me; the old Angel would have let me die. She realized her human soul would have preferred death to what she'd become. More fool it. Even tied to a Sire that denied her true nature, she had more power now than she'd even dreamed of as a human.

After thinking it through for a couple of hours, Willow had the change in Angel down to two causes – either releasing Angelus had left him closer to the surface, even after he'd been resouled, or his time in a hell dimension had hardened him – and it was more likely the latter since there was no reason, which she could see, that regaining his human soul should have left Angelus more powerful than the first time.

Either way, Willow was coming into her own power and not willing to suffer a soul as her Sire for the rest of eternity. First, Willow took the shining jewel that was her hatred for her Sire and slipped it away, just below her heart, so he'd never know it was there. Next, she went looking for weaknesses and found two: his soul was his greatest general weakness, look how it had caused him to be challenged by a weakling, but his attachment to her made him open to attack from her and her alone.

Then in a mercurial shift, a Childe's disappointment led her to wonder why he hadn't wanted her in the church. Granted, it had been a disturbing place to be but the thought of desecrating it with their passion had added a piquant thrill to her desire. What had she done to displease him she wondered before realizing it hadn't been her at all. His soul, came the astonished thought, his soul respects the church. With a calculating smile, she saw how his humanness had driven him away from her. She didn't know quite how, yet, but she knew she would be able to use that against him.

As she pondered Angel's humanity and how an eternity in hell had hardened him, Willow saw, not how she was going to do it, but what she had to do to have her revenge.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

After Prague, Angel reintroduced himself to human company, as if the attack had shown him he'd never fit in among vampires. He introduced Willow to scions of families that had made money selling magic; Willow hadn't realized there were wizarding businessmen before meeting them; most of Angel's friends seemed like spoiled brats, raised on too much money, who were starting to get old enough to realize they hadn't made anything of their lives. Very few of them were anything close to comfortable around her, which worked to Willow's advantage. Angel didn't mind if she wandered off because his friends were more relaxed when she was out-of-sight, those that weren't farsighted enough to wonder what she was doing elsewhere. Angel didn't come looking for her as long as she was visible most of the evening.

Willow would lean in and take his arm, staying long enough to make Angel's friends nervous but excusing herself just before Angel started to get annoyed by it. Then she made herself the center of attention of the liveliest group in the room, so that all heads were drawn to her and Angel knew where she was. She could be charming when she wanted to be. Her strategy required her to be away from Angel's side a good portion of the evening, which her Childe-self didn't like, not trusting the wizards with her Sire's safety no matter how chummy he felt around them, but gave her a good half-hour in the middle of the evening to peruse magic books and artifacts. Not that she ever stole anything but it was useful to know who had what and to gather information.

It was at one of these parties that the vampire approached her. He immediately set of warning signals in her mind. The wizards allowed Angel into their homes because the fools thought his human soul made them safer. They tolerated her because Angel insisted and because she went out of her way to amuse them, in order to get away from Angel and peruse their books, but they weren't aware of that.

Willow was the center of attention, a glittering jewel, surrounded by fool's gold, when the vampire joined her group. Her bright laughter shifted to a thoughtful stare as the humans slowly drifted away. Taking her hand and kissing it, the vampire introduced herself as Beowulf. Willow controlled her smile so it wouldn't look like she was laughing at the Aryan vampire but instead that she was pleased to meet him. It was rare for even a demon, much less a vampire to be at one of these gatherings and she suspected Angel's influence allowed him to be there that evening.

"I would have a," he caught her eyes as he said, "private conversation with you."

"It seems you already are," Willow replied, as she glanced at the humans who were giving them a wide berth.

He leaned over and whispered to her, "There's private," he said glancing in Angel's direction, "and then there's private." Speaking up, he added, "Perhaps you would care to join me on the veranda. The stars are quite lovely this evening."

Willow took his hand and allowed him to lead her outside. She rarely did this on her own because she needed to be visible enough most of the evening that Angel wouldn't wonder when she did disappear to peruse the magic books.

The stars were lovely and the sky dark, darker than her Sire's eyes even but not nearly as beautiful. There were torches, along the garden paths, and here on the veranda as well, where even humans wouldn't need them to see. Beowulf caressed the inside of Willow's wrist as he spoke to her. The feeling was enticing and she allowed her desire to show in both her body and expression as she frankly looked him over, waiting to hear what he wanted.

"You are something of a rarity," he told her.

"Really," she said, raising her head and catching his gaze before batting her eyes at him. "In what way?"

"Very few vampires have your strong potential for magic." Not realizing she had an exceptionally strong magical potential, Willow kept her startlement to herself and just smiled in response. "Your Sire keeps you cloistered, locked tight away, wasting your potential." Ah, there it is, Willow thought.

"But he is my Sire. I can't go against his commands," Willow replied, testing to see where this was going.

"Join me," he said, stepping more closely to her. "I'll give you the freedom of the world, the chance to study with the most experienced witches, and nights of exceptional ecstasy," he added, running a hand down her back.

Willow thought through the situation. The attack in Prague must have unsettled Angel more than I'd realized for him to feel the need to test me like this. No minion, barely a half-century older than I am would try to take what belongs to Angel, unless he really does believe Angel's soul makes him weak, in which case Beowulf is a fool. No, no vampire that foolish would have survived as long as he has. Angel must have hired him, which means Beowulf is a dead man walking, in more than one sense. Angel can't let him live, not after he's publicly made a bid for me. Should I let Angel kill him, or kill him myself? If I kill him myself, I can play up my devotion to Angel and I can make the humans feel safer around me, I think. They trust Angel's soul more than they do me and, if I play this right, I can make them believe I'm more subservient to Angel than I actually am. And it's been too long since I fought another vampire, she finished with a smile.

Willow looked across the ground to the enclosing fence, magically enhanced so that demons couldn't cross it. She let a look of longing fill her face. "Freedom? If you could give me that, I would be very grateful," she said, catching his gaze as she flicked her hair back, exposing her neck. As she arched her neck ever so slightly, signaling a Childe's submission to Beowulf, he became transfixed, caught up in his moment of victory. Using her magic, Willow raised one of the lit torches out of it's stand. Grabbing the torch, she hit Beowulf with it, sending him flailing against the marble porch before throwing the torch on him. And then he was dust.

Gasps sounded from the main room. They'd been under more scrutiny than Beowulf had suggested. The humans backed away as Willow stepped back into the room. As Angel approached, she said, loudly enough to be heard by a good portion of the crowd, "He tried to turn me against you," thus ensuring Angel wouldn't be able to use any of these human wizards to test her.

With a coldness Willow's Childe-self quaked to hear, Angel replied, "It was not your place to kill him. You should have left him to me." The humans in the room started inching away, reaching for crosses and spells that might protect them from Angel's wrath, even though it wasn't directed at them. They'd never seen him as other then pleasant before that night. Willow fell to her knees before Angel but her actions were calculated. She played a role for both Angel and the rest of the room. "Forgive me Sire. When he spoke against you, I let my rage control me," she said, not loudly but clearly enough to be heard by everyone in the quiet room.

Paradoxically, Willow was more popular with the wizarding scions after that. Apparently the bored socialites felt enlivened by the frisson of fear provided by interaction with a ruthless killer. After a few gatherings, Willow knew which groups appreciated her bloodthirstiness and which were turned off by it and adjusted her behavior accordingly, making herself even more popular with the crowd.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Angel doesn't trust me, Willow thought. That won't do. That won't do at all. She started using her Childe self, which had an unerring understanding of Angel's interests, to direct her actions. Angel's human soul was fascinated by high culture, which Willow found amusing since she knew, from Giles' Watcher diaries, that Angel had been a lout of a drunken rake before being turned by Darla. When Angel had taken her to private exhibits, Willow had barely bothered to hide her distaste for art; her Sire might have a human soul to appreciate this junk with but she didn't. Now that changed. Slowly, not wanting to give her deception away, she started pretending an interest. Luckily, as a human, she had been interested, and so could easily pretend to be learning about art from Angel while only giving him half her attention.

Now this one I can mock, she thought noticing the bemused look on Angel's face. And rightly so, she added as she eyed the exhibit. Assorted, what must be chairs were laid out in a circular pattern. They could be raised and lowered, for what human purpose Willow couldn't imagine, up to a maximum of ten feet off the floor. Wonderful torture devices, she thought. Put a human victim up there and they either have to sit on the most uncomfortable looking thing I've ever seen or break a leg jumping down.

"He," Willow said, referring to the artist, "can't possibly mean for anyone to actually sit on them."

"Sadly, I'm afraid he does," Angel replied, taking her hand and giving it a slight squeeze, pleased that her tastes so matched his.

Wanting to revisit one of Angel's pet humans who had a particularly interesting collection of magical tomes, Willow played on Angel's tastes. "Can't we go back and look at the haiku scrolls again? Now that you've been teaching me to read Japanese, I think I could translate some of them. I mean, not as well as I'd like to be able to truly appreciate them, but I'd like to see how well I could read them," she said, trying to recreate her human Willow babble since it calmed Angel to think of her as her old self.

"I'll see what I can do but we need to finish up here tonight." At Willow's quizzical look, he added, "Mr. Althouse..."

"The man who owns this," she added sarcastically, "art."

"Correct. He has some pieces I want to look at. Renaissance scenes. Religious. By Giotto."

Willow didn't bother to hide her distaste. Angel expected that she, as a vampire, would never the appreciate Christian art that he so enjoyed. "Don't worry. I won't expect you to join me."

Willow allowed her Childe-self to finish off the conversation, expressing a disinterest in the art but also a desire to remain at Angel's side. It didn't matter to her whether she joined him at that specific viewing or not.

* * *

When she was ready to display her devotion in a more proactive manner, Willow started denigrating her outfits – this one was out of fashion; that color didn't suit her; she's worn the other too many times before – until Angel decided to take her out to buy new clothes.

"Could we go back to the tailor, the one who also made an outfit for you?"

He frowned at her. "I'm happy with my current wardrobe."

"But I have an idea." Willow allowed a Childe's devotion to take over her features, "You'll look stunning." Seeing that Angel wasn't convinced, she changed her words to, "We will look stunning, together."

Intrigued, Angel took her to the tailor's shop.

"Mr. Drubeck, how nice to see you again," Willow said, charming the older man. While she still didn't like the clothes Angel picked out for her, finding them less revealing than she wanted, Willow was friendly with the old tailor. She tried to be as pleasing as possible with everyone she met, unless she had a specific reason not to, to avoid alienating anyone who might turn into a useful ally.

"Sid. I tell you each time to call me Sid," the man replied.

"Sid," Willow said, smiling as if from happiness. "I had an idea. Do you still have that darker cloth you showed me last time, the one with the shimmery patterns woven in?"

"The one your boyfriend didn't like, saying the pattern was too discrete for you?"

"Exactly." Willow could almost hear Angel growling behind her.

"Well, yes, but you know he's not going to go for..."

"Wonderful," Willow interrupted. "And how about that tan silk? The one that's so similar in color to the shimmering material."

"Yes," the tailor grew excited and his eyes lit up. "Those two together? Is that what you're thinking?"

"Willow," Angel interrupted. "I said last time that cloth was too dark for you."

"It's not for me," Willow looked up at Angel adoringly. "The cloth is the exact same shade as your eyes." Turning back to the tailor, she asked, "Can you bring them out here?"

As the tailor ran off to find the cloth, Angel said, "I don't wear glittery clothes, Willow."

"Trust me," Willow replied. When the old man brought the cloth back, she had him drape the darker cloth out by itself. "Look at how discrete it is," Willow said, picking it up.

"I'm not impressed."

Willow smiled mischievously. "Sid, please bring the other cloth over." Angel's eyes lit up as the darker fabric's pattern shimmered when enhanced by the tan silk.

"I still think it's too dark for you."

"It's not for me," Willow replied. "We will use the darker cloth to make a vest for you. I will wear the tan silk. Think of the impression we'll make when we walk in, arm-in-arm."

Angel gazed off into this distance for a moment before coming back to the room. "Wonderful idea, Willow." He smiled shyly at her, "I'm so pleased you're taking an interest," but then turned, commanding to the tailor. "But not tan. Find something that will have the same effect but in green, to bring out Willow's eyes."

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

It was decades before Angel trusted Willow enough to take her to the Americas and even then it was South, and not North, America. Not that it mattered to Willow where they went. She wasn't about to leave Angel who constantly reinforced her Childe's attachment to him. She wasn't about to abandon her vengeance. She was still infamous, among Angel's human contacts, for killing Beowulf but that had been long enough ago that the short-minded humans were no longer afraid of her. It worked to her advantage as she made up games for them to play out of distracting Angel to allow her more time with magical tomes she perused in the wizard's homes. She still hadn't found what she'd wanted but Willow wasn't worried. She had forever.

"So," a young man asked, startling Willow while she was perusing a magic book. Nobody had been clever enough to catch her before now. " You distract the others so you can have a chance to read? Doesn't your Sire allow you books?"

Willow recognized him as Juan Calderon, scion of an extremely wealthy wizarding family, and said to be very powerful himself. She caught his eyes and replied, "Angel doesn't like me to read books on magic but I find I can't keep my hands off of them. They're so," she lowered and then raised her eyes again as she added, "fascinating." Juan stood a little taller in response.

"And you would like to learn magic?"

"I would," she made a moue of disappointment as she looked away and added, "but it's so difficult to teach myself."

"I would be delighted to teach you," he replied.

Willow looked up with an expression of wonder in her eyes, as if Juan were her hearts desire as she asked, "Would you?" But then she turned her head away, coyly, and put a thoughtful expression on her face. "We'd have to be very careful. Angel is..."

"Jealous of such a rare beauty as yourself and rightly so." He took Willow's hand in his and kissed it. "I know how to be discrete."

"How can you be sure we won't be disturbed?" Willow asked. She had her own ways but, as Juan as shown her, they weren't completely effective and she couldn't afford to have Angel discover her in a compromising position. "You said you'd teach me magic." He looked uncertain at that so she lowered her eyes and looked up at him through her lashes. Oh yes, he liked that, she thought. He taught her the spell.

They met at the parties once or twice a week, always stealing moments. Willow wasn't certain what he wanted from her but was learning magic as she fed his more obvious wants and probed into his deeper desires. It had to be something unusual, very few humans would court a vampire.

"And your mother?" she asked.

"She died when I was very young. She'd been young, beautiful, and always smelled of jasmine. It was a wasting disease: she died young but looking like a hag, with her skin stretched over her, taut and ugly. The stench was terrible," he said, holding his hand to his face as if to block out the memory.

You're afraid of death, Willow thought. "I wish," she started, letting her words drift off as she toyed with her necklace.

"You wish what?" he asked in an affectionate tone.

"It's nothing."

"No, what is it? You know your wish is my command," he added. You really believe that, don't you? Willow thought. While the young man wasn't nearly as controlling as Angel, that was due more to youth than to a lack of will.

Willow allowed herself to look upset. "I'll always look this fresh and young while you..." She didn't finish the sentence but allowed him to finish it for himself. He tensed. I was right, Willow thought. Eternity. You want me to turn you so you'll never die.

"If it weren't for Angel," she added, almost certain that this young pup couldn't kill her Sire, which wasn't her true purpose.

"I... I am no match for him." It hurt Juan to admit that.

"Not alone but together, we might be. We would need something magical, and powerful, to use against him but don't worry," she added snuggling into his arms. "We have time. You're young yet," she added, knowing he was as old as his mother had been when she'd died.

It wasn't difficult, after that, to direct him to the artifact she wanted him to use. The Ashash stone – she recognized it, from research she'd done back in Sunnydale, so she wouldn't even have to lie about that.

"What does it do?" she asked, knowing fully well what it did, when he brought it to her.

"It drains the energy from a demon. Unfortunately it's a long incantation; we'll have to hope he doesn't recognize it," he said, looking uncertain

"So, it will weaken him?"

"Yes, from my research he will weaken within a few seconds, once the incantation is finished. It won't be enough to allow me to kill him but enough that you should be able to," he replied.

"And then we can be together forever," Willow said, knowing that he didn't care about eternity – with her – as long as he had eternity. "Tonight?" she asked, leaning in and letting him get a whiff as the jasmine she was wearing, to remind him of his mother and her death.

"Tonight."

It had all gone as Willow had planned. Juan presented it as an interesting magical object he wanted to display for Angel. She remembered the incantation, funny what stuck in your head from all those years ago, and was able to let him get far enough into it that he was certain Angel didn't recognize it, and that he was safe, before she killed him.

Angel had punished her for it, for months after they'd left Mexico, fleeing Calderon vengeance but Willow's knowledge of magic, the loyalty she had shown by saving Angel, and the threat of magical attack from Juan's family worked her will on her Sire. He bought her magical tomes, knowing from centuries of experience which were useful and which contained junk, and directed her to start learning magic. He didn't buy books specific to apocalypses, which is what Willow was interested in, but that didn't bother her. There was enough overlap in the books he did buy her that she was able to glean out the information she was looking for.

Willow became an expert in apocalypses. Any knowledge there was to know, she knew. Two decades after she'd killed Juan Calderon, she thought she might have a chance. They were in Cleveland. She could feel the Hellmouth energies here, like she'd never been able to while she'd been in Sunnydale, where she'd been human. Still, even though this was a lesser Hellmouth, it might offer opportunities. Angel had some business there he hadn't shared with her but that gave her time to see what she could find. The Natural History Museum had an artifact that sounded like it could be the bones of a demon. Dead demons could be brought back. Unfortunately, her vampire sense told her it wasn't a demon, not even a dinosaur really, just some hoax perpetrated on the museum. It seemed like her chance would never come.

In the end, it was simple.

It was at one of the parties Angel still took her to, slumming, not that Angel knew she saw it that way, with humans. The host had a surprise, some magical item that he'd been playing up all evening. Willow assumed the humans were feeling suspenseful but she was bored. Until she saw the box.

"It brings tremendous power to the person who can open it," the host said.

"Well, go ahead" suggested a svelte brunette in a silver gown, bluntly playing up the host.

"It can't be opened," the host replied.

"Then how do you know it will give you power?" asked the young man who'd brought the silver gowned woman to the party.

Willow mentally rolled her eyes. Almost any object of tremendous but dangerous magical power came with some sort of open me label, much like the bottle that said Drink me in Alice in Wonderland. Didn't these idiots have any common sense, she wondered before turning her attention back to the conversation Angel was having, with a Renaissance expert, some ancient relative of the host, who was inexplicably at the party.

"Uncle," the host barged in. "You give it a try. We've all had a go and nobody can open it."

Willow couldn't believe her eyes. The An-fang, the beginning box, was within her grasp. While the uncle glared at the young man, Willow gave a laugh and said, "That small thing is supposed to be a powerful magical object?"

"Size doesn't matter," some young idiot, predictably, said.

"Willow can open it, if anyone can," Angel smiled at her. He was proud of her knowledge and the prestige it brought him.

"I believe I can," Willow replied, trying not to appear greedy for the box.

"Nathaniel," the uncle hissed, "You don't know what that is or what it does. You don't play with magic like a toy."

But it was too late, their host had already handed the box to Willow. With some showy waves of her hands, she made the appropriate gestures. The box opened and she tossed it to the ground. A disturbance appeared in the air above it. Angel stepped back, moving Willow with him, away from the box.

Willow didn't know what was about to happen. She might die. She might be tortured for eternity with the humans. She only cared that Angel would suffer.

A hellhound leaped out and ravaged a guest. Humans started screaming and running, trying to escape the inevitable and instead, just tripped over each other. Something huge, with leathery bat wings flew out of the gap.

Willow never took her eyes off Angel.

He turned to her. She saw realization break across his face. "Willow, what have you done?" he shouted as he grabbed her by the arms. Triumph took over her face as she broke away from him but then she started to cry, knowing she'd doomed her Sire. She leaned in, caressed Angel's face, and kissed him gently before replying. "The earth died screaming, while I lay dreaming of you."


End file.
